Between Two Worlds
by MissNerdyWings
Summary: (Season 7&8 Spoilers) Cassia Claire Novak was intended to have a normal life- no angels, demons, or hunters interceding. But all that changed when Castiel went to Purgatory. When a mysterious man stumbles into her yard in the middle of the night, Cassie is hurtled into the world of the supernatural. (Set a year after Dean and Cas went to Purgatory.)
1. Chapter 1: Hunter in the Dark

**First story! Please be kind. I do not own Supernatural. Review and let me know if you would like a second chapter!**

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I shivered in the frigid night air, pulling the tan trench coat tighter around me. My black curls danced in a midnight breeze. I sighed, the stars reflecting in my blue eyes. Although it was only November, it felt like the middle of winter. Snow littered the leaf strewn grass, the barren limbs of the towering trees whispering and clattering together.

"Come _on _Spot!" I sighed. My little terrier puppy snuffled at the grass, pulling on the bright red leash I clutched. His tale waved back and forth peacefully. He was completely at ease, taking his time, while I froze my ass off. He glanced up at me, big brown eyes pleading, and floppy black ears falling back.

I sighed.

"Three more minutes," I huffed, tucking my hands beneath my armpits, trying to keep them warm. I bounced from one foot to the other, trying to keep my blood flowing. My toes felt numb, despite the fact that I had them tucked in tube socks and fluffy boots.

_CRACK!_

My head turned to the horse pasture to the east. I strained my ears for a moment, heart pounding.

Silence.

I sighed at myself. My parents weren't due to be home for 2 more days from their week-long vacation, and I'd been getting more paranoid every day. Every off noise sounded like a rampaging murderer in my ears.

"Alright," I said. "Time is up runt." I pulled on Spot's leash, and made my way back towards my 3 story house. We were in the middle of my 2 acre back yard. There was no moon tonight, the only light coming from the stars, and the warm glow of the lights from the house. I shuffled through the overgrown grass, the odd noise from the pasture already forgotten. The horses grazed peacefully, and I was sure they were the only things out there.

Yeah, you can already guess how wrong I was.

I was almost to the cement patio when three loud snaps echoed through the night. I spun around. Spot pulled on the leash slightly, wanting to go inside, unsure of why I had stopped.

I paused, listening carefully.

_SNAP! SNAP!_

"Ugh!" A deep voice groaned in the distance, and I heard someone stumbling through the dirt in my garden.

"I so did not imagine that," I cried. I ran to the house, yanking open the back door. I tossed Spot inside, and went to grab a baseball bat from the upstairs hallway.

"Stay!" I barked at the dog, swinging open the door. I slammed the door shut, leaving my dog in the house, looking at me like I was an idiot.

Alright, you're probably asking yourself why the hell I would just run out with a baseball bat instead of calling the cops and locking all the doors. See, I've never been one to run away, and if I called the cops my parents could get into some legal issues (I think) for leaving their teenage daughter alone for a week with no adults. Also, locking the doors and turning off all the lights would be pointless. Our alarm system broke and we live out in the middle of nowhere. I would be screwed no matter which way I sliced it. Thus, I decided to just face the issue head on, without fear.

Okay, I was practically peeing myself, but regardless, I was going, baseball bat in hand, to face the intruder.

Yes, I know I'm an idiot.

Anyway, I crept through the yard, clutching the steel bat for dear life. I could feel my heart beat in my ears. The chill no longer hurt my skin, a hotness instead spreading over me. Adrenaline pumped through my veins.

"Dammit!" a deep voice grumbled. It was much closer this time. I heard someone falling over one of the logs that lined the garden, and then a bit of scuffling as they stood up. I moved out of the light from the house, vanishing into the shadows. I watched the black space where I'd heard the noise carefully, patiently waiting for them to step into the light.

"Hello?" it called. It sounded like a man. His voice was cracked, like he hadn't had a drink in days. I could tell by the way he moved he was injured and exhausted. He was barely on his feet.

"Is anybody there?" he called. I fidgeted, scared and unsure. "I'm not here to hurt you! I just need some help."

He stepped into the light, and I had to catch my breath.

He was the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life, but he looked like someone had dragged him out of hell. He was coated in blood, bruises, cuts, and mud. He was barely standing. His clothes were grungy, filthy, and torn to nearly shreds. His eyes were hazel. They almost seemed to glow in the dark. Although the light was dim, I could see freckles stretching across his straight nose. Had he been well, I could imagine a crooked smile playing across his lips.

Something tugged at me. I felt like I should know him. His face was familiar. I knew it, I just wasn't sure how. I could feel my chest tighten with emotion, my arms yearning to comfort and care for this stranger.

_What the hell? _I thought incredulously. Something was definitely off here. I reached for my pocket, to my cell phone. A tiny piece of paper was tucked into the back, with the battery. Numbers had been scrawled across it in hurried handwriting. I recalled the moose of a man that had helped me get rid of that _thing _in the back yard last year. He had given me that slip of paper before he'd rushed back out to the black Impala that waited in the driveway, telling me to call if anything weird happened again.

I hesitated, unsure. It could just be some random drunk guy, wandering through my yard.

_Like hell it is, _I snapped at myself. I lived in the middle of Mormon Town USA, and the whole thing about living in the middle of nowhere. The nearest liquor store was on the other side of down, a 15 minute drive from where I stood. There was no chance this guy was here on accident.

"Ah!" I cried. I took off running, wielding my bat. The man spun. He looked like someone who would be quick on his feet, had he not been about to pass out. Still, despite his many afflictions, he managed to grab the bat and send it flying from my hand before it cracked his skull in two. His eyes turned wild, a cold survival instinct threating to take over.

I was about to take off running and screaming when he regained his control.

"Wait!" he gasped. I tensed to run, my fight-or-flight wavering. I knew I had no chance to fight this guy, but my brain and body were having a hard time communicating.

"Please," he moaned. "I'm not here to hurt you." There was a desperate look in his hazel eyes. It didn't seem right. It didn't fit him. His face was too tough, his muscles too large and burly. He wasn't a man that was meant to look scared, to beg for help. His eyes locked on mine, and his jaw went slack.

"Cas?" he gasped.

And with that, he slumped to the grass, out cold, leaving me terrified and unsure, not knowing how this mysterious stranger knew my name.

"Time to call Sam," I decided, voice shaking.


	2. Chapter 2

**Second Chapter is up and running! Please review and let me know what you think :) I'll try to get chapter 3 up soon. Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or anything I may mention later on. Thanks again!**

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"Time to call Sam," I decided, voice shaking.

He answered on the 2nd ring.

"Hello?" he said. It was the middle of the night but he was wide awake.

"Sam?" I asked.

"Who is this?" he said stiffly.

"It's Cassie, from Utah, last year. You killed the monster that was living in my horse pasture."

"Oh, Cassie!" he said. "What's wrong? You sound terrified."

I quickly told him the story. I was brief, telling him a man had stumbled into my yard, asking for help, and passed out. I said he looked in pretty bad shape, but I didn't know what to do, and that he knew my name.

"What does he look like?" asked Sam. I could hear his fingers tapping along a laptop.

"He's medium height and burly. Short brown hair, chiseled features, freckles, hazel eyes. He's wearing a leather duster, jeans, combat boots, and an old flannel tee," I rattled off quickly. I had learned a long time ago how to quickly assemble a description.

The other end of the line was silent for a moment.

"Sam, you there?" I asked. It was a great comfort to have him. No one had believed me when I'd nervously told them about the weird occurrences in my yard. I had been alone, without assistance or help. Then Sam had come along with an answer and a plan. He had saved my life, and I trusted him although I hardly knew him.

"Yeah," he said, voice choked with emotion. "I'll be there in two hours. Go inside, lock all the doors, and line them with salt. Stay safe. Are your parent's home?"

"No," I said miserably. "I'm alone."

"Make that an hour and a half," Sam said. There was a click and he was gone.

I eyed the man on the ground carefully. He looked so helpless, in need of protection; I couldn't help feel the need to do so. But Sam had told me to run inside and make salt lines and get far away from him, and Sam knew best.

But I couldn't control myself.

I ran inside as fast as possible, up to my bedroom. I ripped the duvet off my bed, and clamored back down the stairs. I swung open the door, ignoring Spot barking and jumping at my legs, and ran to the man again.

I crouched next to him, heart pounding. I quickly threw the blanket over him, and then ran inside again.

Spot was glaring at me like I was a moron.

"Don't judge me!" I said, folding my arms across my chest. "It was freezing. We have to question him, so I couldn't let him turn into a Popsicle out there. Sam was clearly freaked out, and so he didn't want me to just let him die."

Spot cocked his head to the side, clearly not buying it.

"Oh, shut up!" I said.

Ten minutes later I sat in the living room, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, Spot on my lap, phone in my hand, salt lining every window and door, and making a small circle around me. A silver knife and a canister of holy water sat on the carpet next to me. My adrenaline had waned, and now I was enveloped in icy fear. Scenarios played through my head, each one worse than the next. I saw the man breaking down the door, his massive hands wrapping around my neck, muscles pulsing as he choked the life out of me, face filled with fury. It terrified me. I somehow knew how angry this man could get, how dangerous he was when he furious.

The time didn't go by fast enough.

Finally, the roar of the Impala filled my ears. I jumped to my feet, again ignoring my dog's indignant growls as he was sent sprawling. I ran to the door, forgetting my weapons, relief clouding my judgment. I wanted to sing as I ran out the front door. Help had arrived.

I was doing a lot of running tonight, and my legs were feeling it. I had never been a runner, preferring to swim.

"Sam!" I cried. The Chevy rolled down my long gravel driveway, parking in front of the garage. The engine shut off, and an enormous man climbed out of the driver's seat. I paused, paranoia taking over again. I eyed the dark shape of the man, wary. Was it Sam? No one else had a car like that, I was sure, but you can never be too careful. I already regretted my outburst, and my lack of weapons to protect myself if it wasn't my friend climbing out of the Impala.

"Cassie? Is that you?" Sam's concerned voice called out.

"What's my full name?" I called out.

"Cassia Claire Novak," he replied, voice catching like it always did on my last name. I had never understood why. Last year, when he'd helped me kill the monster in my yard, I had gotten this weird feeling. Sometimes I would catch him staring at me, a million emotions on his face. He acted as though he knew me, but was greatly trying to hide it. I'll admit it, he did seem slightly familiar, but not a whole lot. Just a light flutter when I saw his face, which I amounted to the fact that he reminded me of my older brother, Zach, who'd died a few years back. I'd lost a lot of family this past while, which was why my parents had gone off for a weekend. Too many murders in a small amount of time getting to them, I guess.

I shoved the thoughts away, ignoring the tears that had appeared in my eyes. I ran to Sam, the pain in my heart fading. I hugged him, wrapping my arms around his broad middle. Slowly, he returned the favor, hugging me gently. He just felt like family, and I didn't know why. I just knew I could trust him.

I pulled away.

"He's out back," I said. Sam nodded. He went to the back of the Impala, opening the trunk, propping it open with a shotgun. He rooted around for a moment, pulling out a few things, shoving them in the pockets of his jacket. He slammed it shut, turning to me.

"Lead the way," he said.

I obliged, and took off walking at a brisk pace. The trench coat went out behind me, flapping in the night air. My arms swung at my sides, my blue eyes in a slight squint. The fear had gone, leaving a fierce determination to know the truth behind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Not sure if anyone is actually reading but, hey, it's fun to write anyway! Thought I'd add a twist, and I'll be switching off from Cassie's point of view and a 3rd person view. At the moment, it's Sam. Also, this chapter is a bit longer than the others. (Whoops!) :) Hope you enjoy! Please review, and let me know if you want me to keep posting :)**

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Sam watched her walk away, and he felt his chest tighten. The trench coat, the look on her face, everything made his heart sad. She was so much like Castiel. Sam had begun research on her the second after they had met, but everything came up clean. Though, the last time they had been together, she hadn't had the trench coat. He could have sworn it was the exact same one his brother's precious angel had used to wear.

The simple thought of his brother made Sam want to drop to his knees and sob. The ache in his chest was horrific. It never left him. It was always there, slowly gnawing away his insides. And when Cassie had called him, describing a man that fit his brother's description to a T, he had dared to hope. Maybe, just maybe, he was back. Maybe he had somehow wiggled his way out.

Or it was just some shifter that Sam was going to have to shoot, and make him watch Dean's death all over again.

Sam shoved the thought away, and caught up to Cassie.

"Nice coat," he said politely. "Where'd it come from?"

Cassie glanced up at him, and Sam felt his heart wrench.

"Thrift store," she said. "It was stuffed a woman's handbag that was on sale for 5 dollars. I fished it out and bought if for 3," she said proudly. "It had some of what looked like ink and raspberry stains, and a couple tears, but I fixed it up and it's my favorite thing to wear." She halted, adjusting the large coat on her narrow shoulders.

"Did you say ink stains?" Sam asked. His heart thumped in his chest.

"Yeah, at least that's what they looked like. They were a bitch to get out. They were everywhere, splattered all over the place. Who the hell gets ink all over themselves?" she said incredulously.

"No idea," Sam managed. "Let's keep moving." His suspicions were confirmed. That was definitely Castiel's coat. How it ended up in a thrift store in Utah was beyond him, but he knew it was Cas'.

But when they reached the back yard, the only thing that waited for them was a rumpled blanket. No man in sight.

"Uh oh," Cassie said. "He must've woken up."

"Cas," he said without thinking, "get inside."

"Did you just call me 'Cas'?" she asked furiously.

"Um-I-" he stammered.

"That's what that guy called me! You're in on this, aren't you Sam?" Her eyes narrowed. She stalked up to him, jabbing her finger into his chest.

"I can explain," he begged. For a 14 year old girl, she really was scary.

"You bet you can!" she barked. "But first we have to find the dick in my yard." She spun on her heel, trench coat flying out in an arc behind her. The sound reminded Sam of the many times Castiel would appear out of thin air, scaring Sam out of his wits.

She threw her head back, black curls tumbling down her back.

"Coming?" she called without turning.

Sam nodded, unfreezing, catching up again. He cocked his pistol, putting a bullet in the chamber. He couldn't deny that he was hoping the man out there was Dean, somehow back from the dead, but he also couldn't deny that it was much more likely that it was some shifter or demon that he was just going to have to shoot, and watch his brother die all over again.

"I'm so sick of watching him die…" Sam mumbled. He was reminded of that miserable, eternal Tuesday Gabriel had trapped him in, forcing him to watch Dean die over, and over, and over. That had easily been the worst day of his life. He had never gotten over the pain, and then Dean went to hell, and he felt broken inside for 4 months that felt like 4 centuries. And now he was off to kill his brother himself.

"You say something?" asked Cassie, glancing up at him.

"What? Oh, yeah, just muttering to myself," he replied casually. Cassie gave him one last suspicious look, shrugged, and moved on.

"So, what've you been up to this past year?" she asked, putting her hands in her pockets. She stared at the stars as she walked. Although physically she was just like Castiel, mentally she was very different. Cassie was alive and bright, enigmatic and outgoing. She wasn't deadpan like the angel. She had a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind. Castiel had been an innocent puppy dog, or, as Dean had coined him, a baby in a trench coat. Cassie was a wolf.

"Well, this is my first job in months, actually," he said. "I was in Colorado when you called. I was looking for a real job."

Cassie raised an eyebrow. "How the hell did you get here so fast?"

"You don't want to know," Sam chuckled darkly.

Cassie laughed, but the sound was quickly cut off.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered.

"Hear what?" Sam asked at full volume.

"Shh!" she hissed, pressing a finger to her lips. She closed her eyes, listening carefully.

"HA!" she yelled suddenly. She bolted, vanishing into the black.

"Cassie!" Sam cried, taking off after her, switching on his flashlight. "Oh, guess you found him."

Cassie had a man pinned to the grass. He looked as though he could have easily thrown her off had he been at full strength, but at the moment he was weak and sickly. Sam knew instantly, without a doubt, it was really Dean. No demon would struggle against a 14 year old, nor would a shifter. And a demon never got weak or sick. Sam let his mind quickly analyze Dean, finding every single possibility.

_Oh, shut up Sam! _He snapped at himself. _Dean is back!_

"A little help?" Cassie barked. She was struggling to keep Dean restrained.

Sam blinked stupidly for a moment. He was still slightly in shock. His brother was back! His brain was struggling.

With a might gruff, Dean shoved Cassie off. She hit the ground with a string of curse words. Dean was about to take off running, when he made the mistake of looking at Cassie's face.

She was bewildered and sad. She had failed. She had that sad puppy dog look. It was the same look that Castiel used to give him, like a puppy that had just been kicked. The grief and sadness hit him like a wrecking ball. He fell to his knees. He had done everything he could. He'd protected his angel with all his might, mind, and strength, but he had failed. He'd lost Castiel, his best friend, his brother.

"I failed," he whispered. He fell to his knees, trembling like a leaf. In Purgatory, he'd been hard and cold. Emotion was a pesky thing that got in the way, and it was a luxury he couldn't afford. Now that he was out, all the feelings he'd stuffed away were spilling out. They came out in bursts, with no warning, and they left him feeling drained and weak in the knees. It was the most vulnerable he'd been in his entire life. Even as a child he'd managed to keep his emotions on a strict lock down, and now he'd found his breaking point the hard way.

Tears streaked down his face, his entire body trembling. Sam was yanked from his daze. His brother needed him.

"Dean?" he asked, kneeling next to him. Cassie scuttled away, unsure of what to do. She seemed to melt into the shadows, turning invisible, but Sam could still feel her presence. It took a lot more than a year off hunting for his creepy hyper-awareness to wear off.

"Sammy?" Dean murmured, looking up from the grass. Sam studied his brother's face for a moment, and his heart crumped.

Dean was shattered. His brother was broken, if every sense of the word. He was the fragments of a great man. He'd left something behind in Purgatory, and Sam had a feeling he knew what it was.

His brother had lost Castiel.


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, I'm still getting views so I'm still posting! I would greatly appreciate some feedback, negative or otherwise, on how to improve my story. :) This chapter is a bit shorter. Let me know if you would like me to continue the story of Cassie :) **

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"It's alright Dean," Sam whispered. He knew it was his brother. There was nothing in the world that could imitate such intimate feelings. Sam pulled Dean to his feet, but it was quickly clear that Dean didn't currently have the ability to walk on his own. Sam sighed, thankful for the extra muscle he'd put on from visiting gyms from town to town. He swooped his brother into a princess hold, which normally would have sent the eldest Winchester in a rampage about losing manliness.

But this was no normal situation. Dean was barely awake at the moment, and he was too broken to care what was going on around him. Sam wondered how long his brother had been out. He felt heavy, yet light, as though he had put on a lot of muscle, but it was deteriorating rapidly.

"Cassie, will you get some hot water running?" Sam asked, turning to wear he saw the girl vanish.

She stepped from the shadows, a million emotions on her face. Sam swore he even saw a tear on her cheek, but she wiped it away so fast he wasn't sure.

"Yeah," she mumbled. She ran to the back door, and went inside the house. Light quickly blossomed from the windows, and she discarded her trench coat on the kitchen table. Sam watched as she ran up the stairs to the king bathroom to get the bath going.

Sam started towards the door. He couldn't help but glance at his brother every few seconds, worry lining his face. Dean was filthy, his beard overgrown, his body and face coated in dirt, blood, bruises, and scratches. He'd been through hell. His eyes had closed, and he breathed deeply in Sam's arms. Sam could feel his frantic heart beat slowly calming.

"You idiot," he mumbled. Sam swung open the back door, into the Novak home. He thought back to when he'd first gotten the case. As soon as he'd seen the last name, he'd flipped, going into a frantic search, trying to see if it was the same Novak family as Castiel's vessel. After much painstaking research, he'd discovered that Cassie's family was related to them, but it was rather distant. However, Jimmy, Castiel's vessel, had been very close friends with Cassie's father, and was present at her birth. He was responsible for her name, Cassia. When he'd asked Cassie's father about it, he'd said Jimmy had a revelation, and he knew that it was the right name for the child, and that her middle name, Claire, was a family name.

"Tub is filled with steaming water." Cassie appeared at the base of the steps. She wore a simple, black sweater and dark skinny jeans. She'd ditched her gray boots and now had fluffy blue socks on her feet.

Sam nodded, laying Dean on the couch.

"Is it hot enough to sit for a while?" he asked, making sure Dean's head was supported.

Cassie nodded. "Yeah, I had a feeling we'd want to wait until he was capable of bathing himself."

Sam nodded gratefully, and walked into the kitchen. He slumped into a chair, exhaustion threatening to take over.

"Explanation time," Cassie said, folding her arms across her chest.


	5. Chapter 5: Memories

**Hello readers! I'm sorry it's been so long. Things have been kind of crazy :) I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I would love to know what you think and if you have any ideas or questions please let me know. :) Thanks for reading and have a great day.**

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Sam sighed. He leaned back in the wooden chair, stretching his long legs. I realized with a start that I was only a head shorter than him now. I really had shot up this year.

"Want a beer?" I asked, cutting him some slack. Yes, I was dying for the truth, but Sam looked like he was ready to join the man on the couch for a nap. There were dark bags beneath his eyes. His skin was pale, his stubble and hair overgrown.

"Aren't your parents religious?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but my sister isn't, and she left a few bottles." My sister, Hannah, was the only relative who stilled wanted to talk to my parents, and that was mostly for my benefit.

After Zach had died, my family completely separated from my parents. They blamed them for my brother's untimely death and everything that followed. My oldest brother, Micheal, went to jail, as did my oldest sister, Lucy. My cousin Gabe had passed on from a heart attack (he just couldn't say no to a Twinkie). My family was enormous, and tragedy had stricken every branch of it. The worst, in my opinion, was the disappearance of my uncle, Jimmy. Him and my dad had been distant cousins and best friends. He'd even been around at my birth and had named me. He was my best friend, and my father always told me I looked just like him and that I would be a great man like him, too. A while back, he stopped visiting. When I asked about it, my parents just got this dark look on their faces and wouldn't respond. One day my mom came home sobbing, telling us Jimmy had gone missing. It had been so long, and I was sure he was dead.

This all ran through my head as my hands fished beneath the bed in my sister's old room.

"Aha!" My hand brushed a cardboard box. I reached out a bit farther and my fingers wrapped around the smooth glass neck of the bottle. I shimmied out from under the bed, lugging the six-pack with me. My sister had drunk one, leaving 5 behind. I carried it out, grinning proudly.

"Found it!" I said, skipping merrily into the kitchen. Sam, who still sat at the table, glanced up and smiled. I set a beer in front of ham, sticking the rest into the fridge to cool off.

He twisted off the cap, sighing in relief with the hiss of the beer opening. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a long drink. I grabbed a soda for myself from the fridge and sat across from him. The man on the couch slept soundly.

"Alright, you have your beer. Time to spill your guts," I said. I folded my arms across my chest, glaring at him.

He sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. But I'll start with asking who the hell the guy sleeping on my couch is."

Sam took a deep breath. "That's my brother, Dean."

I stiffened. The name sent shivers up my spine. "You didn't tell me you had a brother."

"That's because I figured he was as good as dead."

"What happened?" I asked, softening, my voice quiet and kind.

Sam took another deep breath. he stared into my eyes for a moment, trying to figure out if he could trust me. It was bit unsettling.

After a moment he smiled, and I watched in amazement as all his barriers fell. He opened his mouth, and the words flowed like a river. He talked until the sun began to rise in the east and beyond. I knew the bath I'd drawn was stone cold by now. Dean was still snoring on the couch. The sun was well on its journey through the skies when Sam finished. My heart had skipped a beat when he'd gotten to angels and now I was pretty sure I was ready to pass out.

Castiel.

Jimmy.

Monsters.

Demons.

Angels.

My head felt like it was going to blow.

"So your angel friend, Castiel, took Jimmy's body, and now my uncle is probably brain-dead, and now I have his coat? And I'm just like Castiel and he's in Purgatory and Dean was there too but he got out?"

Sam nodded.

"Your lives have been hell. Literally."

Sam nodded again. He drained his 4th beer and looked on the verge of collapse.

_Thank God it's Saturday. If I had school today I'd be screwed._

I stood, trying to process everything Sam had said and function at the same time.

"You need sleep," I said. I grabbed the empty beer bottles and tossed them in the trash.

"No. I can't. If Dean wakes up and I'm not here-"

I cut him off. "I can handle Dean. Go get some rest. You can take whichever bed you want."

Sam sighed, knowing he wasn't going to win this round. He lumbered off to Hannah's room and I heard him snoring 10 minutes later.

I sighed. I knew he wouldn't be sleeping very long. I would want to get some breakfast started soon.

I yanked out the coffee maker and made myself a steaming cup of the bitter drink. I sat at the kitchen table, eyes burning, thoughts circulating around one subject:

Castiel.

The very name of the angel sent shivers up my spine. As Sam had told his story, I could see it all in my mind, crystal clear. I saw Dean killing Azazel in a cowboy graveyard, the gates of Hell wide open, Bobby and Ellen struggling to shut them. I saw Dean in Hell. Sam hadn't gone into detail, but I could easily see the horrors. I saw Heaven. I knew exactly what had happened, every step of the way despite Sam trying to sugar coat it. I had never been to the places he described, yet each location was clear in my mind. But when I saw the images I wasn't with Sam; I was with Dean. Every time, it was always Dean.

It wasn't until Sam described Castiel's betrayal and insanity that I was with the angel himself. I stood with Castiel. I felt everything he had felt. It was odd at first, imagining my uncle as an angle, but I quickly fell into a pattern. My uncle, who was as good as dead, was long gone. I grieved his death and I felt empty and horrible. But I couldn't stop thinking about the angel. I could feel a tugging sensation in my gut. I didn't know where it was going, but I knew it was towards Castiel. I could sense him.

Suddenly, a blinding pain burst in my head. I cried out, slumping out of my chair onto the hard floor. My coffee splattered to the floor, mug shattering. I trembled, eyes scrunched shut. I clutched my head in my hands, teeth clenched so tight I thought they would shatter. I heard the men in my home snap awake and come trampling to the kitchen. Sam called my name, and then he was gone.

I was standing in a clearing of a forest. Tall trees surrounded me, ominous and frightening. A cold chill passed through the air. Something was wrong here. The light was off, the air tainted with the smell of blood.

I shifted, listening, and I realized I wasn't me. There was dirt on my skin, stubble on my cheeks. My hair was too short. I felt bigger, stronger. My clothing was filthy. I worse a tattered trench coat and hospital clothes.

I was Castiel. I was in Purgatory. I felt his every emotion. He was sorrowful and lonely. He missed his hunter. But he knew he deserved to be here. He had to pay the price for his transgressions.

"Leviathan," he whispered in a husky voice that wasn't Jimmy's. My uncle's voice was soft, gentle. This voice was deep, loud, and gruff. And, at the moment, it was angry.

He drew a knife from his coat. It was the same coat that I had. How were there two?

_Castiel! _I thought. He payed no attention. I took a mental deep breath.

_CASTIEL!_ I screamed the words with all my might. They reverberated through our skull.

Castiel yelped. His thoughts swirled and I recognized some of Jimmy's memories. An image of my appeared, smiling and laughing.

"Cassia?" he said aloud. His voice was wracked with emotion and shock.

_What's going on? _I cried.

"I don't-" His sentence cut off and I felt his eyes go wide. "You have some of my-!"

_WHOOSH!_

Suddenly, I was back in the kitchen, far from Castiel and Purgatory. Sam clutched me in his arms. My ears were ringing and I couldn't understand what he was saying. Dean knelt beside me. He looked better, but I could tell he was still pretty broken up.

I moaned slightly, and my ears stopped ringing.

"Cassie, what happened?" Sam demanded. Dean's eyes were wracked with worry. I had just met him, yet he was still worried for me. He cared.

I sat up, pushing myself out of Sam's arms.

"I-I was in Purgatory," I whispered. Dean stiffened. "I was with Castiel."

Sam helped me to my feet. Questions burned in his eyes but he held off for my sake.

"I'm going to lie down," I mumbled. I felt totally drained. I was coated in a cold sweat. My body ached and my eyes burned.

Sam nodded. Him and Dean needed to talk anyway, but I would have to explain later.

I stumbled to Hannah's room. I flopped on the bed and was asleep in seconds. I dreamed of the past, Castiel's past.


End file.
